


Meant to Be Yours: Holiday Traditions, Old and New

by gray_autumn_sky



Series: Meant to Be Yours [9]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 05:10:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13183038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gray_autumn_sky/pseuds/gray_autumn_sky
Summary: Robin, Regina and the boys prepare for their first Christmas together after the curse has broken.Featuring holiday crafting, cookie baking, an awkward Charming Family dinner, and Regina the Sexy Reindeer.





	Meant to Be Yours: Holiday Traditions, Old and New

Robin looks up as John chuckles and nudges his arm. “Looks like someone left his underwear on the floor again,” he says, as they both watch Regina trudge forward through the snow with squared shoulders and a clenched jaw, looking like she’s ready for a fight. “She looks like she’s ready to hurl a fireball at someone.”

He rolls his eyes and hands John the bow he’d been attempting to tie, and a grin curls onto his lips. “Customized gift wrap was your idea anyway,” he says, laughing as John’s smile fades and he looks down at a mess of ribbon that already started to unravel. “Marco also ordered two fishing poles to go with that order. Have fun wrapping those.”

“But you said you’d help until we opened. We’ve still got twenty minutes!”

Robin shrugs as he moves to unlock the door. “I’ve got an angry fiance to deal with, unless you just want to  _let_ her burn down the store.”

A smirk stretches over his lips as John’s eyes roll, and he mutters something that’s not completely audible beneath his breath–and nonetheless, Robin laughs and he’s glad for the distraction, even if it comes in the form of an angry Regina before he’s had a full cup of coffee.

She bristles as he lets her into the store, then closes and locks the door behind her. It’s unusual that she’d be there that early. Normally when she dropped by the store it was around lunch time and she usually had sandwiches from Granny’s with her–and when she didn’t have sandwiches, she had the boys and was either dropping them off or picking them up. But today, it was barely eight in the morning. The boys were at school and when they’d parted ways less than an hour ago that morning, she hadn’t said anything about stopping by–and she’d been in a perfectly fine mood.

He grins and stuffs his hands into his pockets, shivering as he turns to face her. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Her eyes widen a bit. “Mary Margaret Blanchard,” she tells him flatly. “Mary Margaret Blanchard happened.”

“Ah…”

“I thought the two of you were on good terms now?” John calls from behind the counter as he examines the bow Robin had been working on. “Well, for the last few months or so.”

“We are,” Regina replies curtly as her eyes shift between John and Robin. “On most days.”

“And something tells me today isn’t one of those days,” Robin says, chuckling softly as he steps forward, his hand guiding her into the store. “Come on, let’s go talk about it.”

He leads her back to his office and closes the door, and he lets out a little laugh as she pulls off her gloves and throws them down onto the desk. “She stopped by my office this morning to talk about Christmas Eve dinner, and–”

His brow furrows. “You knew she was going to. It’s been on your calendar for  _weeks_.”

“I know that, but what I didn’t know we’d signed up for more than dinner.”

Robin blinks. “Oh, I thought–”

“Yeah. Me too.” Sighing loudly as she reaches into her purse. “This is for you.”

His brows arch. “Oh, and this is…”

“Your secret santa assignment.”

“My what?”

“Secret Santa,” she repeats. “We all have one.” Robin takes the envelope. “Apparently, she’s invited half the town to this thing and–”

“I got Marco,” Robin says as a grin pulls onto his lips. “And according to this card, he likes craft beer. That’s easy enough.”

She nods and her jaw tightens. “Everyone filled out a card.”

“I… don’t remember filling anything out.”

She nods again. “Remember that dinner we didn’t go to last week. Then one we–”

A grin pulls onto his lips. “I vividly remember. We dropped the boys off and had the whole house to ourselves.”

Regina’s eyes roll. “Well, Mary Margaret had the boys fill out our cards.”

“That was thoughtful,” he says, dropping his card down onto his desk. “Who did you–” He stops and a grin curls onto his lips. “Oh,” he murmurs as a little laugh escapes him. “You got Mary Margaret, didn’t you?”

Regina groans and nods. “And she wants something  _sentimental_ and  _homemade_.”

“That’s… cute.”

Her jaw tighten again. “Isn’t it?” Robin laughs. “There’s also an dress code for dinner.”

“A dress code?” She nods and a grin twists onto his lip–he’s enjoying this far more than he should be and there’s a part of him that feels a little guilty teasing her when she’s this annoyed. “So, is it safe to assume I shouldn’t wear my Rudolph boxers and Roland’s fuzzy red and green antlers?”

“Oh, no… that  _would_ actually be acceptable,” Regina replies. “Our clothes have to be Christmas themed.” Her eyes sink closed and she draws in a breath. “Robin, she wants to go carolling.” He can’t help but laugh as he leans back against the edge of his desk and reaches for her hand, tugging her toward him. “I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to go over there and have a pot-luck dinner and exchange presents and go out caroling when half the damn town is going to be at her dinner, anway. What are we going to do? Sing to a bunch of empty buildings?”

Robin laughs and presses a kiss to her forehead. “It’ll be fine.”

“I have to  _make_ her something.” A little grin twists onto her lips. “The last time I made her something it was a poi–”

“No,” he cuts in. “You’re not poisoning an apple.”

She blinks up at him. “It’d be sentimental.”

“No.”

“But–”

“No,” he cuts in, shaking his head.

“What else am I supposed to do? Make her a scrapbook of all the times I tried to kill her?” She asks, wide-eyed. “Robin, we don’t exactly have the sort of history you’d want to get  _sentimental_ about.” She sighs and her shoulders slump forward. “Is it too late to back out?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“They won’t miss us. David and Mary Margaret have Emma around for a few more days, and–”

“Regina. We told–”

“Remember last year?” She says, ignoring him. “Remember how perfect it was?”

“I do remember, and it was perfect.”

“We ordered Chinese food and watched movies and–”

“And had incredible sex.” He nods and laughs a little. “Of course I remember.”

She grins. “Wouldn’t it be nice to just… do it all over?”

“You want to do  _exactly_ the same thing we did last year?”

“Don’t you?” She asks, her eyes widening. “Robin, that was such a wonderful night.”

“I’m not saying that it wasn’t,” he says, unable to stop himself from remembering her padding across his kitchen, barefoot and wearing only his thermal. “But after almost thirty years of doing  _exactly_ the same thing, it’s nice to have… a variety.”

Her smile fades and she takes a breath. “We still have presents to wrap and the turkey isn’t thawed, and–”

Robin shakes his head, and chuckles softly at her obvious attempt to get out of dinner with the Charmings. “And we still have  _two days_ to wrap presents and the turkey doesn’t need either of us to thaw.” He circles his arms around her waist and sighs. “Not to mention, I think  _you_ want to go… even though you’re doing a very good job trying to convince yourself that you don’t.”

Regina’s jaw tightens and her eyes narrow. “I hate when you do that.”

His head tips to the side. “Do what?”

“Stay calm and logical and… reason with me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, leaning in and pecking her lips. “So, how about we both take short days, then we’ll meet at Granny’s for lunch, do a little more Christmas shopping–the craft store, included–and then pick up the boys from school.”

Her lip catches between her teeth and she sucks in a breath. “You’re sure you don’t want to stay in on Christmas Eve?” She asks, once more trying to convince him. “Just you and me and–”

“And half the town,” he says, his voice rising over hers as she pouts. “It’ll be fun.” He shrugs. “And if it’s not, it’s only a few hours and we’ll know for next year.”

For a moment, she doesn’t say anything, but she shifts on her feet and looks away as her eyes press closed–and then, she nods. “Fine. You’re right. We should go.” Her eyes shift back to his and she bites down on her bottom lip. “Which means I am back to square one on the homemade, sentimental gift.” Robin shrugs and he pulls her to him, letting his hands slide over her hips–and a little grin tugs up at the corner of her mouth. “You used to date her. What do  _you_ think she’d want.”

His eyes roll. “It was  _one_  date,  _years_ ago, and we were fixed up, at that.”

“Yeah, yeah… that’s what you always say.”

“Because that’s all there is to say.” He sighs. “How about you go walk through some of the shops and–”

“It has to be homemade.”

“You can get ideas.”

Her eyes narrow. “Maybe.”

“And maybe we could meet for lunch?” He asks, his grin brightening. “Burgers at Granny’s, then a little shopping? I saw this little book light the other day that I thought we could put in Henry’s stocking. They only had the unicorn pattern left, but the guy at the store said they’d be getting more in today, so I want to check that out.”

Regina’s eyes soften and a smile pulls onto her lips. “You… want to get Henry something?”

Robin laughs. “It’s not completely uncharacteristic, is it? I mean, we’ve both gotten both boys tons of presents for–”

“No, no,” she cuts in. “It’s not uncharacteristic. I just… it’s sweet that you think of him and…” She stops and shakes her head. “It doesn’t get old, that’s all. Everytime, it… it warms my heart.”

“Well, he’s going to be my step-son in just a couple of months. Of course, I  _think_ of him. I love him.”

“I know you do.”

“So, what do you think?” He asks, squeezing her a little closer. “Lunch then shopping? And I can help you figure out Mary Margaret’s gift.”

Her eyes narrow in consideration  as she presses her palm to his chest. “Or we could shop a little, then have lunch, then shop some more.” Her eyes widen a little as she smiles. “Come on. Play hookie with me.”

“This is a really busy time of year for the shop,” he says as his fingers press into her hips. “I want to, but–” He sighs. Arguing with her over something like this will get him nowhere–and in the end, he’s just going to let her win because when it comes down to working or spending a day with her, it’s not much of a contest. “It wouldn’t really be fair to John to have to manage this place all by himself.”

Regina’s lips part to protest–likely to tell him that he was already planning on taking off the afternoon and it’s only just a couple of hours difference–but John’s voice beats her to it. “You know, I’m pretty sure I can handle the two customers we have in the store, and its two days before Christmas. We’re out of almost everything anyway and most of the customers we have coming in today will just be picking up gifts they’ve already purchased.” He grins as he looks between them. “I wasn’t eavesdropping,” he says as he steps into the doorway. “You left the door open and I need more ribbon.”

Robin rolls his eyes as John reaches for the ribbon and waves it at him–and then, when he looks back to Regina, there a little smirk stretched across her lips. “Fine,” Robin sighs as Regina leans up onto the tips of her toes to peck his lips. “You win.”

_____

They spend the morning wandering through the department store, picking up a few last-minute gifts for Henry and Roland. They find a pack of Superman socks for Roland and a new Captain America hat for Henry; they pick out a few stocking stuffers–card games and packs of gum and rub-on tattoos–and Robin talks her into buying matching green-and-red flannel pajamas, not just for the boys, but for them, too. Then, somehow, by the time lunch rolls around, they’re each walking out of the department store carrying two overflowing bags.

They load the bags into the backseat of Regina’s car and drive back toward Main Street.

“You disappeared for awhile there,” Regina says, narrowing her eyes as they slide into one of the booths at Granny’s. “Where’d you go?”

Robin shakes his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“When I was paying for the pajamas, I turned around and you were gone.”

“Oh,” he murmurs as he focuses down on the menu. “I went to the bathroom.”

“And you didn’t say anything?”

“I did,” he says, sounding a little coy. “Maybe you didn’t hear me.”

Again her eyes narrow and it looks like he’s resisting the urge to smirk–and though she wants to press further and figure out just where he went and why he didn’t tell her about it, she also wants to eat. And her hunger wins out.

“I’ve been thinking about these burgers ever since you mentioned them this morning.”

“Me too,” he says, laughing a little as he folds the menu closed. “I think I woke up craving one.”

Ruby takes their order and within a few minutes, their burgers set in front of them and a plate of fries between them–and Robin’s mysterious disappearance at the department store is all but forgotten as they plan out the rest of their day.

After lunch, Regina pops into a few of the little stores along Main Street while Robin checks in on John–and when they meet again in front of Granny’s, Regina has another bag and still no gift for Mary Margaret.

They end up in the craft store and both are a little lost as they wander up and down the aisles as Regina scrolls through the Pinterest app she never opens on her phone. Finally, when she turns down an aisle of miniatures, a smile draws onto her lips as she finds a tiny little apple tree that looks a bit like the one she had planted in the garden at Leopold’s castle.

She pulls it off the peg, and looks at it, rubbing her fingers over one of the tiny apples–and then, the beginnings of an idea that just might work sparks. She looks up to find that Robin is, once again, nowhere to be found and shrugs her shoulders, then turns her attention to the Pinterest app. She selects a few other miniatures–making a point of keeping the mini apple tree–and then heads to another aisle, choosing a mason jar and iridescent glitter. It takes a little longer to find glycerine and a little wooden candle holder to create a base for the jar, but eventually she finds them; and them, on the way to the check out, she tosses some white paint, a hot glue gun and some glue sticks into her cart. And then, waiting by the checkout with a triple-bagged package, she finds Robin.

“What’s in the bag?” She asks, attempting to peer down into it. “You went to a lot of trouble to make sure no one could see into that bag.”

Robin shrugs. “One of the things inside is a little heavy, so they gave it a little extra support, that’s all.”

Her brow furrows. “That sounds like an excuse.”

“It’s not,” he says, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to her cheek as he takes her bag. “What did you end up getting to make for Mary Margaret.”

She takes a breath and forces a smile. “I’m making her a snow globe… or at least that’s what I’m going to try to make her.” She rolls her eyes and reaches into the bag and pulls out a little chipmunk encased in plastic. “She used to take to little woodland creatures.” Robin laughs and her eyes roll. “It was annoying.”

“But also sort of cute.”

“I guess…” She shrugs and a grin pulls onto her lips. “Are you sure you can’t tell me what’s in that bag?”

“Gift wrap and… some other things.”

Her brow arches. “Gift wrap was too heavy?”

“Did I say it was heavy?” He asks, chuckling softly as she nods. “Oh, then… yes. I got a few spools of ribbon and it… really weighed down the bag.” Her eyes narrow with curiosity and shrugs as they start their way down the street again. “So, I was thinking,” he begins, looking up at the signs about the stores. “We should get the boys some candy for their stockings.”

“Didn’t we do that already?”

“Probably,” Robin says easily, chuckling again as he pulls open the door. “But we didn’t get candy from  _here_.” Regina steps in and looks around at the dispensers filled with brightly colored candies, and a grin pulls onto her lips. This is one of the newer stores in Storybrooke, one that was started by one of the dwarves–whose Storybrooke name always escapes her and whenever she addresses him as  _Happy_ , she feels the oddest twinge of guilt –after the curse broke. “We can never bring the boys here,” she murmurs in a low voice as she looks to Robin. “They’d never make it out.”

He laughs. “You think we’d find them curled up in the corner passed out in a sugar coma?”

She nods as he looks to him. “With Sour Patch Kids and Starbursts clenched in their fists.”

“Mayor Mills!” Happy calls out as he comes out of the back room, carrying two large bags of lemon drops and chocolate-covered malt balls. “I’m so glad you’ve finally made it in.”

“Oh, I meant to, but–”

“You’ve been busy, I’m sure.”

She grins and nods as she runs her hand over the chrome counter and looks at the glass jars filled with colorful gumdrops. “It… looks like something out of a story book.”

“That’s what I was going for,” he tells her–in a stereotypically happy voice. “Can I help you two find something for Henry and Roland? I’m sure we have–”

“Oh, I’m sure, too,” Robin says, cutting in with a soft chuckle as he pulls two boxes of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Jelly Beans from the shelf and holds them up for Regina to see. “They’d go nuts in here.”

“I hear that a lot.”

“I think we’ll just have a look ar–”

“Your boys are into Harry Potter?”

“Obsessed.”

“Then, I have something to show you!” Happy comes around the corner and takes them both by the hard, and Regina’s eyes widen as he brows arch and she looks to Robin, who only laughs. “If they like Harry Potter, they’ll definitely like–”

“Oh my god,” Regina breathes out, her jaw dropping as she looks at the little section of the store that’s Harry Potter-themed. “This is…”

“Intense,” Robin decides as he picks up a Gryffindor spatula. “But I think Henry needs this.”

Regina nods. “Get Roland a Hufflepuff one, too.”

Robin nods and plucks another spatula from the bucket–and then, sees the matching spoons and aprons, and without hesitation, he grabs one of each in Gryffindor and another in Hufflepuff. “Can I interest you in a Ravenclaw apron?”

She turns and grins. “Only if you get an apron, too.”

“Henry and I can twin,” Robin tells her, choosing a Ravenclaw one for her and a Gryffindor one for himself–and her heart warms at the image of the two of them, in their matching aprons. “We can wrap this stuff up with–”

“Hagrid’s hut?” Happy suggests, pulling a box down from a shelf and handing it to Robin. “What Harry Potter fan could resist a gingerbread version of Hagrid’s hut?”

Regina sighs and nods, as Robin tucks the box underneath his arm and she turns her head to read the recipe on the side of the box. “Well, we have everything to make the dough and–”

“Everything comes in the box,” Happy explains. “But most people are buying extra frostings and candies to decorate the hut.”

Again Regina sighs and before she can even nod, Robin’s already at one of the dispensers, filling a bag with tiny Snow Caps–and a half an hour later, they’re leaving the store with two full bags of candy, and only the Bertie Botts Jelly Beans for the boys’ stockings.

On the way to the elementary school, they stop by Granny’s again and buy two gift cards for milk shakes, and Robin suggests filling two bags with quarters so the boys can play the jukebox. Regina agrees and they stop by the bank, getting a couple of rolls of quarters, and then they stock up on little bags of trail mixes and chips and popcorn for the boys to take to school for snack time–and they’re fully aware that none of the snacks will last past New Years, let alone until the boys go back to school.

Finally, they stand outside the elementary school–and a grin edges onto her lips as she watches Henry and Roland emerge from the school.

Henry takes Roland’s hand and helps him down the icy front steps, and then they break out into a trot as they spot her and Robin standing near the fenced in playground.

“We had a party!” Roland announces. “And our teacher brought us cupcakes.”

Robin laughs. “Is that why your lips are all green?”

Roland nods as Regina folds her arm around Henry and pulls him to her. “My mouth’s green, too,” Roland tells them, sticking out his tongue as she and Robin laugh. “Or it was.”

“It still is,” Regina tells him, laughing softly as she shakes her head. “Cupcakes aside, did you have fun?”

Roland nods. “But the cupcakes were the best part.”

“My teacher didn’t get us cupcakes,” Henry says. “Mother Superior isn’t nearly as fun as the other teachers.” His brow arches as he looks up at Regina. “Her gift to us was we got to play Holiday bingo instead of doing math today.”

“Well, that’s… something,” Robin says, laughing slightly as he shakes his head.

Regina’s eyes narrow as she looks down at Henry. “You do know that she’s not  _really_ Mother Superior. She’s not actually a nun, she’s–”

“The Head Fairy,” Henry cuts in, nodding as he looks up at her. “Same thing.”

“I always thought fairies would be more fun than nuns,” Robin muses as he looks between them. “I mean, with the magic and funny little outfits, and all.”

“Not  _this_ fairy,” Regina sighs. “There’s a reason she ended up being a strict nun who thrived on killing any sort of fun anyone wanted to have in the curse.”

Henry blinks. “We had to solve math problems to figure out if what squares she was calling. That’s  _not_ fun.”

“Oh… I just thought that was part of her cursed personality.”

“No, it was… strangely fitting.” A grin twists onto her lips. “Making her a nun for nearly thirty years was her the punishment the curse put upon her.”

A snicker escapes Robin as his brow aches. “Ah, the thing that… sets nuns apart.”

“Exactly.”

“It took for-ev-er,” Henry complains, completely unfazed by the innuendo.

Robin laughs. “Did you at least get to use colorful bingo dabbers?”

“She said that was too messy,” Henry says, shrugging his shoulders. “But we got to use our colored pencils.”

“That’s…” Robin stops. “Well, you’re done for a couple of weeks.”

Henry nods. “She liked the candle, though.”

“I told you she’d like a white unscented candle,” Robin says as they round the corner back to Main Street.

“She said it was her favorite scent.”

“Yep,” Robin says, chuckling to himself. “She’s really is a fun one.”

“Yeah,” Henry sighs. “Real fun.”

Regina laughs as she hugs Henry closer as they walk toward her car–and Robin when Robin leans in, pressing a kiss to her hair just before they reach the car, she feels her heart flutter, and it’s hard to believe that she started the day feeling tense and annoyed.

______

Robin’s brow furrows as he looks down at the recipe card.

“It’s easier than it sounds,” Regina tells him as she comes up behind him, pressing her hand into his back. “Just crack the egg into the rice and… swish it around.”

“Swish it around?” He asks, turning his head to look at her from over his shoulder. “Is that the culinary term?”

“No,” she says, grinning. “But it’s the one I’d use with the boys.”

“Are you telling me I have the culinary abilities of a six and nine year old?”

“No,” she says, giggling softly. “They’re much braver.”

His brow crinkles and he pouts a little. “Why do we have to have  _fried_ rice, anyway? What’s wrong with just steamed white rice with the beef chop suey?”

Regina leans up onto her toes and presses a kiss to his cheek. “It was Roland’s night to choose and this is what he chose.”

“And you can’t just… magic it together?”

Her eyes roll and a grin edges onto her lips. “It’s more fun to watch you struggle.”

“Thanks…”

She kisses him again and the dumps a bowl of spouts into the chop suey before turning her attention to the boys who are carefully rolling egg rolls at the counter.

“Regina’s right, dad,” Roland calls. “This  _is_ fun.”

“It’s out of my culinary wheelhouse,” Robin says. “I was good at fishsticks and mac and cheese, and…  spaghetti. I can make some really great spaghetti and meatballs.”

“He does make good meatballs,” Henry says, looking up from his egg roll. “I like that they have cheese in the middle.”

Robin smiles and Henry grins at him. “You like anything with cheese in it,” Regina laughs as she helps Roland tuck in the edges of the egg roll.

“Thanks for trying, Henry,” Robin says, laughing as he winks at the older boy. “It’s nice to know someone’s on my team.”

“It’s not that I’m not on your team,” Regina says as she looks to him. “I just think it’s fun to try new things.”

“Yeah! Me too,” Roland says with an exaggerated nod. “Like fried rice!”

“Yeah,” Regina says, offering Robin a wink. “Like fried rice.”

“It does smell good,” Henry says, attempting to peer past Robin.

Robin’s brow furrows and he chuckles softly to himself. “Traitor.”

“I was trying to compliment you,” Henry says. “But… I don’t think the egg is supposed to look like that.”

“It’s not,” Regina says, chuckling softly as she reaches around him and scoops a fork into the rice, making sure to take a little of the egg with her. “But it still tastes good.”

“And that’s all that matters,” Henry says, shrugging his shoulders. “I think the egg rolls are done.”

“Okay,” Regina says, taking a breath. “Can you two line some paper towel on the counter?”

Both boys nod and hop off their stools as Regina comes up beside him, knocking her hip against his and winking as she drops the egg rolls into the boiling oil. Robin continues to stir the rice and slides an arm loosely around her her waist as they wait for the egg rolls to cook. He loves this part of the day–and though it’s a nightly routine, cooking dinner with her and the boys never gets old.

When the egg rolls are done, Regina lays them out on the paper towel and the boys pat them dry as he scoops the fried rice and chop suey into separate bowls. The boys set the table and he and Regina pour the drinks and carry in the food. The boys both chatter on about Christmas, mostly–and Henry is a good sport, playing into the Santa Claus myth for Roland’s benefit, reminding the younger boy that bed time will be earlier than usual and they won’t get to ask for extra chapters.

Finally, when dinner is done, the table is cleared and the boys help with the dishes–and for the first time that school year, there’s no homework to be done.

When the kitchen is cleaned, Regina suggests a movie–but a coy little grin edges onto Roland’s lips and he suggests instead they bake cookies for Santa. Henry’s quick to jump on the bandwagon, and before either he and Regina can agree–or disagree–Henry has a recipe card for sugar cookies on the counter and is getting out the ingredients. Regina laughs as she she lifts Roland onto a stool at the counter and she instructs Henry to preheat the oven.

It’s not long before the dough is rolled out and he’s adding food coloring to the icing, and the boys are laughing and singing Christmas songs as they press cookie cutters into the dough, making stars and snowmen and Christmas trees.

The first batch goes into the oven and the boys work on a second–and when Henry turns  to reach for a handful of flour to sprinkle onto the more onto the counter, his elbow hits the snowman cookie cutter pushing it off the edge of the counter.

Instinctively, Robin bends to grab it–and his fingers loop through the cutter’s center, just before it touches the floor.

“Nice catch,” Regina laughs as Robin hands it back to Henry with a triumphant little grin.

“Thanks, dad,” Henry says, barely paying attention as he presses the cutter into the dough–and then slowly, he looks up, realizing what he’s said. “I mean…” Henry’s voice trails off and his cheeks flush as he shifts uncomfortably and looks back down to the dough. “Sorry, I…”

“Don’t apologize,” Robin’s quick to say as he looks momentarily to Regina, who smiles gently as he eyes widen a little and she nods before he turns his attention back to Henry. “It’s okay.”

“I… I don’t know why I called you that,” he murmurs sheepishly as he looks up. “I’ve never called anyone that before.”

“Maybe because Roland calls me that?”

Robin holds his breath for a moment, watching the way Henry chews at his lip and fidgets uncomfortably–and he’s not sure how to respond. Of course, he doesn’t mind that Henry called him dad–since he and Regina started dating, Henry had felt more and more like his son, and they’d reached a point where he didn’t feel any differently about Henry than he did about Roland. In a lot of ways, Henry calling him dad felt natural and fitting–and admittedly, he’d wanted to start a conversation with Regina about formally adopting her son once they were married, but he wasn’t quite sure where to begin or whether or not, he’d be overstepping.

“That’s because you  _are_ my dad,” Roland says, unncessarily. “What else would I call you?”

“Roland, that’s… not very helpful,” Robin says with a sigh as he looks to his son, watching as he peels a christmas tree cookie up from the counter and sets it down on the baking sheet.

“I’ve never had a dad,” Henry says, looking up at him. “You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to one.”

Robin looks up and his eyes meet Regina’s, finding them teary. “Henry,” he says, feeling a little choked up as he looks back to him and leans his elbows onto the counter so they’re at eye-level. “If you think of me as your dad, that’s okay.” He grins. “In fact, I’d be honored to be  _your_ dad.”

“You would?”

“Of course I would.”

“Really?” He asks, almost shyly. “You would?”

“Absolutely,” Robin says as his smile widens. “You’re an amazing, kid, Henry—and, I love you.”

A lopsided grin tugs up at the corner of his mouth. “You do?”

“I do,” he says easily. “In fact–”

“Uh… what’s that smell?” Roland asks, interrupting as his eyes widen.

Robin blinks and looks up as Henry’s eyes widen a little as Regina looks to the oven–and suddenly, they all remember the cookies in the oven. Regina pulls the oven door open and Robin hands her a set of oven mitts before picking Roland up and pulling him out of the way–and Henry giggles when Regina sets the tray of burned sugar cookies down on the counter.

“We can’t leave  _those_ cookies for Santa,” Roland says, looking between them all.

“Well, it’s a good thing you two were making a second batch, anyway,” Robin says, looking to Henry as he shoves a spatula underneath one of the cookies, lifting it and giggling at it’s burned bottom.

“We’ll set the time on the next batch,” Regina says assuringly. “That way Santa’s cookies won’t burn.”

“But we can still decorate these,” Henry says as a grin pulls onto his lips. “If we eat them with ice cream, I bet we won’t even be able to tell they’re burned.”

“You just want an excuse to eat ice cream,” Regina says, laughing as she takes the second, unbaked tray of cookies and slides them into the oven–and intentionally showing Roland that she’s setting the timer.

Robin swallows hard watching as Henry reaches for the red icing and paints it across one of the stars, giggling as it pools in the center–and it’s obvious that for him, the moment has passed. Roland joins him and the counter and reaches for one of the burned snowman cookies–and Robin feels his chest tightening as he watches them. Regina steps up beside him and stretches an arm around his back, smiling up at him as she lays her head against his chest, watching as the boys decorate the cookies.

It strange, he realizes, that he spent the last twenty-some years doing the exact same things year after year, but as he watches  _his boys_  decorating the cookies, it’s hard to remember anything before the last year, anything before Regina and Henry came into his and Roland’s lives–and it’s almost as if those twenty-some-odd years happened only to bring him to this very moment.

_____

She draws in a breath as she plugs in the glue gun and looks at the items laid out on the counter. There’s a little chipmunk and a couple of birds, a rabbit and a racoon, and a little girl in a pink dress with long brown hair that’s curled into ringlets–and of course the little apple tree.

Opening up the app, she reads through the instructions and Robin chuckles softly.

“You know, it might be more effective to actually… start gluing things down.”

Blinking she looks up. “I just… want to make sure I know what I’m doing.”

Leaning in, he presses a kiss to her cheek as her eyes narrow. “Aw, you care.”

“I don’t want to have to go back to that hellish place, that’s all.”

Robin grins. “I think you care more than you say.”

“I don’t,” she says, her voice curt as she tears the packaging off the apple tree. “I just want this done and to not have to do it again.”

“Because you care.”

“No.”

“Regina, why can’t you just–”

“I will not hesitate to murder you,” she says, as she turns and points the glue gun at him.

Robin brow arches and he reaches for the gun. “Okay, so… how about we put the gun down and talk about this? Hm?” Her eyes roll as he pulls the gun away from her and sets it down. “It’s just a Christmas gift.”

She nods and presses her eyes closed. “It’s not though and I’m really worried this is going to be… a complete disaster and another disappointment.”

She looks away from him and focuses on her phone as her jaw tightens–it’s hard to put into words why she wants this gift to work out. In the last few months she and Snow–or Mary Margaret, as she still wanted to be called–had forged the beginnings of a friendship. She wasn’t deluded enough to think that it wasn’t mostly about Henry–as odd as it seemed that her once step-daughter’s grandson would be the little boy she adopted–but she didn’t want their entire relationship to be centered around her son.

She’d always felt guilty about what happened between them all those years ago–and she hadn’t handled her guilt well.

Deep down, she’d always known what happened in the stable that fateful night wasn’t Snow’s fault, but admitting the alternative had been too difficult–and though she knew that the unhappiness she felt in the years she spent at Leopold’s wasn’t at all Snow’s fault, she’s needed someone to blame, and again, blaming snow was just easier.

Somewhere along the way she’d lost sight of that though and somewhere along the way getting revenge on  _someone_ was good enough.

In the past few months, she’d done what she could to make amends, but always it felt like it fell short, and what Mary Margaret really wanted was something she couldn’t give because at the end of the day, she couldn’t regret a single thing–not one terrible thing she’d done–because if she hadn’t done those things, Henry wouldn’t exist and a world without Henry wasn’t a place she was interested in.

And that had become increasingly apparent since Emma Swan had come to town.

“Regina…”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she says in a small voice as she looks up at him. “I just want to make my snow globe.”

He sighs and hands her the glue gun and a little grin edges onto her lips. “Don’t use the glycerine,” he says as he presses a kiss to her cheek. “It’d clump after a couple of shakes.”

Her head tips to the side and her eyes widen. “And how do you know that?”

“Google,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. “More specifically Molly Moo’s Blog.”

“Molly Moo?” Her eyes widen and her face scrunches up judgmentally. “Really?”

He nods and a snicker escapes her. “What? I didn’t name the blog.”

She can’t help but laugh as he stuff his hands into his pockets. “So… what else did Molly Moo’s Blog say about making mason jar snow globes?”

He grins and again, takes the hot glue gun away slowly. “That… this doesn’t work. You need water-resistant glue. Otherwise the little miniature chipmunks are going to be swimming.”

“Perfect,” she says, sighing as her head falls back. “That’s just perfect.”

“It is, and it just so happens we have some.” Her brow furrows and before she can ask, he trots around to the opposite side of the counter and opens up the junk drawer. “Remember Henry’s coral reef project?”

“How could I forget?” She asks with a sigh. “It’s why we now have three betta fish, who refuse to die, named Larry, Moe and Curly.”

“Well,” he says as he fishes through the door and holds up a small silver tube of glue. “This is what we used to keep it all together.”

“Water resistant glue,” she says with a nod. “Of course.”

He tosses it to her and she catches it, setting it down beside the miniature chipmunk. He leans forward and rests his elbows on the counter, and she can feel him watching as she opens up the other packages.

“So, tell me about these little creatures.”

She blinks and looks up. “You want to know about the birds Mary Margaret used to talk to?”

“Sure.”

“Okay,” she says slowly as she uncaps the glue. “I told you she talked to them?”

“You did.”

“Well, she did it for years.”

“Years?” He asks as his brow arches. “She talked to birds for  _years_? Wasn’t she, like… ten when you and her father married?”

“There were squirrels, too, but they were less receptive,” she tells him as a grin stretches over her lips. “And, it’s not like there were other kids around for her to play with. Whenever we’d go out–”

“You were there?”

She picks up the little rabbit and dots glue along the bottom as she looks up at him. “I was a glorified babysitter, remember?”

“Ahh… right.”

She presses the rabbit down to the bottom of the jar’s lid and then reaches for the little girl. “She named them all and would… talk about them like they were people, and…” She laughs. “I don’t know how she did it, but after awhile, they got used to her and they’d… come up and greet her.”

“Like pets.”

“Just just like pets,” she says, nodding. “She was… good with them and she’d bring them little treats and she tried to teach them tricks and–” She laughs a little as she presses the girl down to the lid and reaches for a bird. “There was this fat little cardinal that used to come and eat seeds out of her palm… and she’d whistle and he’d whistle back.” She bites down on her lip as she glues a little red bird to the girl’s shoulder and looks up at Robin. “It took her a year to learn to whistle. She’d just… blow and spit and…” She sighs and a grin twists onto his lip. “I wanted to throw myself into the lake.”

“You… took her to the lake?”

“In the summer,” she nods. “I liked walking through the woods and I liked being by the water. It was nice to get away for a little bit.”

“If I remember correctly, that’s… an awfully long way.”

“There wasn’t much else to do,” she says, shrugging. “And it was the only way I was allowed off of the estate grounds. So, we… went a lot.”

She watches as his grin softens. “Something tells me that Snow wasn’t just talking to birds and squirrels…”

“And chipmunks.”

“And according to that thing, rabbits.”

Regina blinks. “She was annoyingly inclusive.”

“Did she happen to include a certainly surly yet gorgeous step-mother in those little chats?”

For a moment, she doesn’t say anything as she pushes back a memory of her and an eleven year old Snow sitting on a rock by the water, talking about how Snow feared she’d grow up to be a disappointment to her father–and Regina empathized, confiding her own fears of becoming a disappointment to her own parents.

“No,” she lies as she looks down at the jar. “She didn’t and I didn’t want to.”

“Hmm,” he murmurs as he leans across the counter and reaches for the bag–and before she can stop him, he pulls out another little figurine of a brown haired woman in a blue dress and holds it up. “And who is this supposed to be?”

Her jaw tightens as his brow arches. “Me,” she says, her voice low and barely audible. “That’s… supposed to be me.”

She sighs and looks away as his grin brightens, and he pushes himself up from the counter, quickly rounding it. “You do care,” he tells her as he presses a kiss to her cheek. “And glue some of that glitter to the bottom of the lid so it looks like there’s snow on the ground.”

She can’t help but grin as she looks back to him and nods. “Thanks for the suggestion.”

“I’m going to go check on the boys.”

“Okay…”

“She’s going to love that, you know.”

Regina nods–she does know, she can’t help but feel guilty about it, wishing there was some way for her to change the past without ruining the future.

______

The first official day of Christmas break begins by bundling up the boys and taking them to breakfast at Granny’s–which is the only thing that stops them from wasting the morning away snuggled in bed beneath their blankets. They all eat pancakes and Granny tops the boys’ with extra whipped cream, then Robin takes them into the store while Regina goes into her office to close out the year.

To make up for his absence the day before, he lets John take the boys out to the little yard beside the shop to play. He helps them to build a snowman–and then, once the snowman is built, all three launch an attack tossing snowballs at him until he falls. Robin can’t help but laugh out when Henry and Roland turn their attack on John and he falls back dramatically in the snow, hooking an arm around each of them and pulling them downing into a bank of snow.

When they come in, they’re red-cheeked and their noses are running from the cold, and Robin makes a pot of hot chocolate for them before settling them in his office with an Indiana Jones movie.

“You should bring them in more often,” John says, pouring a mug of hot chocolate for himself. “I like having them here.”

“You like having playmates.”

A grin twists onto John’s lips. “It’s not like you’re willing to have snowball fights with me.”

Robin’s eyes roll. “You need more friends.”

“I have Mulan.”

“And Mulan has Ruby.”

“I like Ruby. We have game nights all of the time.”

Plucking an empty much from the rack behind the counter, Robin fills it–and then, adds a little rum. “That’s… not exactly what I meant.”

“I have Wil, too,” John says, a bit defensively. “When he’s not completely sloshed, he’s a lot of fun.”

Robin nods, “And what are you doing for Christmas?”

“Oh…”

“Regina won’t care if you come over for dinner on Christmas Day, and I’m  _sure_ no one would oppose you coming by the Charmings on Christmas Eve.” He shrugs. “Ruby and Mulan will be there.”

“I… have plans,” John says as he takes a long sip of hot chocolate.

“You’re not sitting at The Rabbit Hole with Will spending the day getting drunk.”

“No, that’s… not what I have planned for the holidays.”

Robin’s brow arches. “Well, I’ve just named off all of your friends.”

John nods. “You did.”

“So, if you’re not spending the holidays with the Charmings or Will, and you’re turning down my invitation, then…” He shakes his head. “Mulan and Ruby are spending Christmas Day with Mary Margaret and David.” His eyes narrow as John looks away and again takes a too-long sip of his hot chocolate. “Granny’s will be closed…”

“I wasn’t planning on going there.”

Robin blinks. “Then… who the hell are you spending Christmas with?”

“My girlfriend.”

“I’m sorry,” Robin says, clearing his throat. “Your what?”

“My girlfriend.”

Robin’s eyes widen. “And when did you get a  _girlfriend_? And why is this the first time I’m hearing of her?”

“It’s… still new.”

“Bring her over!” Robin’s quick to say. “Regina and I–”

“No,” John interjects, smiling awkwardly. “I… don’t think that would be a good idea. Regina doesn’t much like her and… and I don’t think you do either.” Again, Robin’s eyes widen and his head tips to the side. “I’ve been… seeing… Blue.”

“Blue…”

“Yeah. You know. The Blue Fairy.”

Robin swallows hard. “You’re dating  _Mother Superior_?”

“She’s not  _actually_ a nun,” John says, chuckling softly. “Trust me on that one.” Robin’s face scrunches–he doesn’t want to think about it. “We’re… spending the holidays together. I’m making her dinner for Christmas Eve and then we’re going to spend Christmas Day lounging around watching holiday movies and–”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

John grins. “Your cabin is awfully cozy. It’s the perfect place to–”

“I’m so glad you’re renting my cabin,” Robin sighs. “But you know, I’m… happy for you,” he says, his tone changing to one that’s more sincere. “Besides, who am I to judge? I fell in love with the Evil Queen… who turned out to be an adorably surly–”

A grin twists onto John’s lips. “And  _you_ don’t have have to finish  _that_ sentence.”

“Fair enough,” Robin says, reaching out and clanking his mug against John’s. “But if you change your mind and want to stop by, I promise Regina will play nice.”

“You think?”

A grin twists onto his lips. “Wine does wonders for her mood.”

John laughs and nods–and the conversations halts when a customer comes in, searching for a last minute gift. Somehow, John manages to sell the man a tent and a barbeque and a bunch of little things that make camping easier, and by the end of it, the boys’ movie is done and Regina’s coming into the shop to pick them up for lunch.

He grins when she holds up a bag of take-out and the four of them retreat into the office to eat. She had club sandwiches for the boys and a rueben for him and he teases her for choosing a chicken caesar salad for herself–and almost as soon as lunch starts, it’s over and the boys are ready to go.

He stays at the shop until closing, and when he comes into the house, Regina’s in the living room, curled up on a chair with a book. He joins her for awhile, sitting on the arm of her chair with his arm around the back of it, listening as she tells him about her afternoon with Henry and Roland. She tells him about how she took them sledding and then to the library, and while Roland listened to the Story of the Day being read, Henry curled up in one of the oversized chairs and started reading Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea–and of course, that meant that he had to check it out and restart the book as soon as they got home, so that Roland could enjoy the story, too.

Robin makes a joke about how he foresees sea monsters and Captain Nemo taking over their lives in the not so distant future–and with a sigh, Regina agrees, informing him that all through dinner both boys had all sorts of questions about submarines and whether or not there were really sea monsters way down at the bottom of the ocean, whether or not those sea monsters were good or bad, and how pirates might later factor in.

“Pirates, eh?”

Regina nods. “I have a feeling Peter Pan is going to be their next big thing.”

“Yeah?”

Regina nods. “Once they’ve exhausted everything and anything about sea monsters, that is.” Robin laughs and sighs and Regina folds her book closed. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Good,” she says, pulling herself up and out of the chair as she takes his hand. “We made fish tacos and spanish rice… and a huge salad. I made you up a plate.”

“That sounds amazing,” he says as a smile stretches over his lips as she leads him back to the kitchen.

He settles on a stool. “Where are the boys?”

“Sleeping.”

“Already? It’s only nine-thirty.”

She laughs. “Roland thought maybe he and Henry should practice going to be early… you know, since Santa is coming tomorrow and might pass over them if they’re not asleep.”

“And Henry played along?”

Regina nods as she slides the plate into the microwave. “I think he was tired. They got up early and then played in the snow with John, then went sledding and then when they got home from the library, they went out and played in the snow again.”

“He’s a good sport,” Robin says, nodding. “He’s a great big brother.”

Regina nods and leans against the counter. “He really is.”

For a few minutes, silence falls between them–and he feels his own tiredness taking over. The microwave sounds and Regina gets out the plate, and they start an easy conversations about Christmas. She tells him that while the boys were outside playing, she stuffed their stocking and finished wrapping the last of their gifts. He makes a joke asking how the turkey-thawing is coming along and she rolls her eyes as she tells him that it should be ready by Christmas morning. When he’s done eating, she clears his plate and puts it in the dishwasher, then takes his hand, leading him around the house to make sure the doors are locked and the lights are turned off–and then, they go upstairs.

He waits until the shower turns on before going to the closet and pulling out a gift he’d bought for her the other day when they were at the department store, and he smiled to himself, laughing as he held up a sheer green gauzy bra and panty set–and as he wondered, as he pictured her in it, who the gift was really for.

He pulls out a few sheets of wrapping paper–and again laughs at how ill-fitting the paper is for the gift–but nonetheless, sets the lingerie into the box, and wraps it in the paper adorned with cartoon reindeer, wearing little hats and glasses, holding presents and candy canes, and sipping cocoa in silly pajamas.

The shower turns off as he reaches for the ribbon and measures it out against the box–and he grins, knowing he’ll have at least fifteen more minutes to finish wrapping the box and put everything away while Regina dries her hair. But then, just as he’s tying the ribbon, he realizes that he doesn’t hear the dryer–and then, the door opens. His eyes widen as he scrambles to scoop up the wrapping and he tosses the box into the closet, quickly pulling the door closed.

“I’m too tired to dry my hair, so I guess it’ll just be a curly mess for–” Regina’s voice stops as she looks a him. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re holding ribbon.”

He shrugs. “Oh, I was just… wrapping something that I picked up for the boys.”

“All their presents are wrapped and up in the attic.”

“This was something I picked up… today.”

Her eyes narrow. “You didn’t mention that.”

“I forgot about it.”

“You forgot about the last-minute gift you went out of your way to get them  _today_.” Robin shrugs–it’s not completely inconceivable for that to be true. “So, what did you get them?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Her brow arches. “Even for me.”

He laughs–and it’s more than obvious she doesn’t believe him. “Especially for you,” he says, changing gears.

“So, it’s… for me  _and_ the boys?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

She brightens a little. “So, this for  _me_?”

“Perhaps.”

“Can I have it now?”

“No.”

Her bottom lip pouts out and he can’t help but laugh. “I’ll give you one of yours.”

“While that is  _very_ tempting,” he says, as he tosses the ribbon down on the chaise longue by the window. “It’s far too late for you to enjoy it.”

She blinks. “It’s barely ten-thirty.”

“And you’re tired.”

“Am I?”

He laughs again and shakes his head. “Well, I certainly am.”

“And… this gift is something you and I will enjoy… together?’

He grins and takes few steps toward her, pulling her to him. “I certainly hope so.”

Leaning up onto the tips of her toes, she pecks his lips. “Fine. I guess I can wait until we  _both_ can enjoy… whatever it is.”

They get into bed and as soon as his head his the pillow, he sighs contently–and then, rolls onto his side to face her. “You know, there’s… actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve just been thinking about it for awhile and…” He sighs. “I didn’t really know if it was my place or…”

Regina rolls onto her side to face him, and tucks her hand against her cheek. “You sound serious.”

“I am.”

“Okay, you have my attention.”

He nods, and takes a breath. “Well, it’s about what happened last night… with Henry calling me dad.”

“Ah…”

“I… don’t really see much of a difference between being Henry’s  _step_ -dad or his  _dad_. To me, it’s the same thing, and in a few months, we’ll be married, so I’m not sure if it’s… a moot point or…” He sighs and takes a breath, oddly struggling with his words. “I think I should start over.”

“No,” she murmurs softly as a little grin edges onto her lips. “I’m following.”

“I love him. I love him as much as I love Roland, and while I don’t think titles matter in the least… I think they matter to Henry.”

Regina nods. “I think they do, too.”

“Remember last Christmas, and how he kept saying he’d always wanted a  _real_ family and–” He stops. “I want to give him that picture-perfect TV show family he grew up wanting.”

“You  _have_ given him that, and yesterday, when he said that he’d never called anyone ‘dad,’ he was…”

“I know…”

“But I want to make it official,” he says, holding his breath as his eyes meet hers. “If… that’s okay with you.”

Regina nods. “It’s perfectly fine with me. I know that you love him and… and since he came to Storybrooke, you’ve been a dad to him, even if you didn’t have that title, even if you and I weren’t even together yet.” Her little grin brightens. “And I love how much you love him.”

“I  _do_ love him.”

Regina draws in a breath, and suddenly, something in her expression changes–something he can’t quite read. “Maybe when we get married, we could…  _all_ make it official.”

“All…”

“I’m not trying to replace Marian, but–”

“You wouldn’t be replacing her,” he’s quick to say. “Roland doesn’t remember her and he loves you so, so much, Regina.”

“And I love him.”

“So, then… we’ll talk to a lawyer after the holidays and…”

“Yeah,” Regina nods, smiling as tears fill her eyes. “And then in March, it should be finalized.”

Leaning in, he presses a kiss to her forehead and then to her lips. “That is going to be such a good day.”

She nods as she cuddles into him. “The best.”

______

On the morning of Christmas Eve, she decides to bake apple pies–and despite Robin’s gentle suggestion that perhaps giving David and Mary Margaret an apple pie for the holidays isn’t the best of ideas, she wraps one up to bring to the Charmings nonetheless.

She spends the rest of her day trying to convince herself that Christmas with the Charmings isn’t a colossal mistake–and it works right up until Mary Margaret opens the door, proudly donning a Tree Rex sweater that she says she just couldn’t pass up when she saw it hanging in a store window.

Regina’s eyes widen as she focuses on the dinosaur tangled in Christmas lights with a star atop his head. “No,” she murmurs, dragging her eyes up to meet Mary Margaret’s a tight smile stretches across her face. “I’m sure you couldn’t.”

Mary Margaret steps aside to let them in and Robin leans in murmuring a low  _be nice_  into her ear as they pass.

She hands David the pie and he makes a quip that she chooses to ignore about it being an apple pie, and she sets Mary Margaret’s gift onto the table with the others–as as she turns, she realizes she’s lost Robin to August and the boys are both busy examining the ornaments on the Charming’s tree.

Standing there alone, she folds her arms over her chest and looks around the room–aside from Robin’s conversation with August, there’s not really one she can just jump into and she’s well aware that the majority of the people in the room only tolerate her.

Though most people in town didn’t want to tie her up and burn her at the stake like she’d initially feared and though most have accepted her as their mayor, they don’t have much of an interest in sitting down for dinner and making small talk–and their tolerance, she suspected, had much more to do with Mary Margaret’s and Robin’s endorsements than it did with her.

“Hey.”

Regina looks up and watches as Ruby and Mulan walk toward her, offering them a little smile as Ruby extends a beer. She takes it and murmurs her thanks–and though she’s not much of a beer drinker, she’s glad to have someone to talk to.

“So, we were hoping you could settle something for us,” Mulan says as a grin tugs onto her lips and she looks to Ruby. “We can’t come to an agreement.”

Regina nods and takes a quick sip of the beer, grinning as she looks between them.

Ruby has been one of the few people in town who hasn’t kept her at an arm’s length, and since the curse broke, she was one of the few Storybrooke residents who insisted others should give Regina a chance to redeem herself. And, of course, like Mary Margaret, Ruby was a hero that most believed in. Mulan was generally harder to read, but that was mostly because she was something like a little sister to Robin–and though she wasn’t completely thrilled with the notion of Robin hooking up with the Evil Queen, he was happy and that was what mattered most.

“We were wondering what your take is on the whole Little John-Blue Fairy thing,” Mulan says. “Personally, I think it’s batshit, but bleeding heart over here,” she says, nodding her head in Ruby’s direction, “thinks it’s sweet.”

Regina blinks. “John and… Blue?” Her eyes shift between them. “That’s… a thing?”

“You don’t know?”

“Robin didn’t tell you?”

Ruby shifts as she looks to Mulan. “It’s possible Robin doesn’t even know.”

Mulan shrugs and then looks to Regina. “John is always seeking Robin’s approval. I doubt he’d willingly admit to him that she’s been shaking up with Shady.”

A grin tugs on to Regina’s lips. “Shady?”

“The Blue Fairy is  _totally_ shady,” Mulan says as her voice drops. “I don’t care what anyone says.”

Regina takes another sip of her the beer. “So… John and Blue, huh?”

Ruby nods. “It’s new.”

“And I don’t like it,” Mulan adds before taking a long sip on her beer. “And I don’t like her.”

“Well, I’m not the best judge of character, but–”

“You never liked her,” Mulan cuts in. “And you like Robin and you’re raising a great kid, so I’d say you  _are_ a good judge of character… and since you’re a good judge of character, I think you’re on my side with this.”

Regina shifts and tries to hide the awkward little grin as she looks to Ruby. “She makes a good point.”

Ruby sighs and rolls her eyes. “That’s what my grandmother said, too.”

Mulan’s brows arch as she slowly looks to Ruby. “Even  _Granny_ agrees? And you’re  _still_ arguing this? That’s me, Regina  _and_ your grandmother.” Regina bites down on her lip as she catches Robin’s gaze and he seems pleasantly surprised to see her casually chatting with Mulan–and that makes her smile. “Just give up and admit you’re wrong about Blue.”

It’s not long after that that Mary Margaret announces that dinner is ready and they all take a seat around the awkwardly long table at the center of the room. There’s both turkey and ham and what seems like a hundred different side dishes, and at the end of the meal, Regina can’t help but notice that her apple pie has gone untouched. With an overly dramatic sigh, she cuts herself a piece–and she can’t help but smile when Roland comes up behind her, tugging on her sweater as he lifts his plate and asks for a big slice.

She laughs and nods, cutting a larger-than-acceptable piece for him and the she takes his hand and leads him over to the couch, pulling him into her lap.

“I don’t know why no one’s eating your pie,” he tells her. “It’s really good.”

“Well, I guess there’s just more for us, then.”

Roland’s eyes widen. “That means I can have another slice?”

Regina laughs and presses a kiss to his mess curls. “How about you finish that one first.”

“That sounds like a challenge,” he says, stabbing a fork into an apple slice. “And I’m good at challenges,”

“I think my stubborness is rubbing off on you.”

Roland shrugs and cuts his fork into the crust. “Maybe.”

Regina laughs and they finish their pie, and before Roland can even ask for another slice, Mary Margaret announces that it’s time to exchange presents. A knot forms in her stomach as she lifts Roland off of her lap and sets him down on the couch,  awkwardly moving toward the presents and plucking hers from the pile.

For a second, she stands, rooted in place, watching as people awkwardly approach one another and extend their gifts–and she can’t help but notice the too-wide grin that edges onto Mary Margaret’s lips as she waits for her gift.

“I… think you already know this,” Regina says as slowly walks toward Mary Margaret. “But I was your secret santa.” Awkwardly, she holds out the bag. “Merry Christmas… Snow.”

A grin tugs up at the corner of Mary Margaret’s lips as she takes the bag–and her eyes widen. “Regina,” she murmurs as she pulls the snowglobe out of the bag. “This is beautiful.” She grins and gives it a little shake. “Is that… you and me?”

“It… is,” Regina says, swallowing hard as she shifts a bit uncomfortably on her feet. “I was… thinking of those little walks we used to take when your father would go away and–”

“I love this, Regina,” Mary Margaret cuts in, looking at her with tears glistening in her eyes–and then, she pushes herself forward, folding her arms around her. “Thank you.”

Regina tenses and slowly, her arms fold around Mary Margaret–and lightly, she pats her on the back. She looks up and watches as Robin bites down on his lip in an effort not to snicker and when she tries to pull back, Mary Margaret hugs her tighter before finally letting go.

“So, you really made this?”

“I did,” Regina nods. “Well, Robin helped a little… but yeah… I made it.”

A grin twists onto Mary Margaret’s lips. “I’ll treasure it always.”

“I’m sure.”

“And… I had your name for secret santa,” Mary Margaret announces as she holds up a bag. “It’s funny that we both ended up with each other’s names.”

“Yeah,” Regina murmurs. “So funny.”

“Here!”

Regina holds her breath as she takes the gift bag, swallowing hard as she pushes her fingers through the paper. “Is this… a book?” She asks, looking up at Mary Margaret. “I know Henry filled out my card, but–”

“He said you’d want baking stuff and more recipe cards, and somehow, those things felt like they might actually be for him.”

Regina grins. “Well, we do like cooking together….but… yeah, I think that would have been something Henry would have enjoyed because it would have increased the chances of him getting to eat cookies or a cake or… an apple pie.”

A grin tugs up at the corner of Mary Margaret’s mouth. “Roland said it’s  _to die for_.” Regina’s eyes sink shut and she grimmaces. “I… might have to try a piece if it’s that good.”

“I… do make very good apple pie and I promise, there’s no poison in it.” She takes a breath and smiles. “Robin said I wasn’t allowed to do that.”

“That’s good to know,” Mary Margaret says as a giggle rises into her voice. “Now, open your present! I’m really excited for you to see it.”

“Alright,” Regina breathes out as she lifts the book from the bag. She swallows hard as she looks down at the brown leather book with gold leaf lettering that reads  _Storybrooke Through the Years_ , and then her eyes shift up to Mary Margaret. “What… is this?”

“Open it.” Again, she holds her breath as she opens to the first page, and pasted onto the page is a newspaper article about the first Miner’s Day Celebration, and a photograph of herself with very questionable haircut. “I went through the town archives and… your curse had a little flaw.”

“Did it?”

Mary Margaret nods. “The newspaper had microfilm of all of the newspapers throughout the years, so… I compiled a book of all the amazing things you did for this town and the people who live here.” Reaching out, Mary Margaret turns to the back of the book and fans out the blank pages. “And I left room for all the wonderful things you’re  _going to do_  for this town.”

She feels her breath catch in her chest and, in spite of herself, she feels her eyes filling with tears. “Mary Margaret, this is…” She looks up and bats her hand over her eyes. “I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe that you… made this for me.”

Mary Margaret smiles. “I know things have been tough for you since the curse broke. People haven’t always been fair to you and they expect the worst, but you’ve  _earned_ this second chance.”

“Oh… that’s…” Her voice halts and she surprises even herself when she steps forward and wraps her arms around Mary Margaret. “Thank you.”

Mary Margaret slowly pulls back and smiles–and before things can get too sentimental for her comfort, Henry comes bounding toward them with Roland on his heels.

“Mom! Look! Isn’t this cool?” Regina turns to face Henry. “Look what Emma got me!”

“And me!” Roland echos as he holds up a gift bag.

Regina grins as Emma mouths a silent  _thank you_  as Henry pulls out a Captain America action figure with a little helicopter attached to his back. “He flies!”

“And so does my Superman!”

“Oh, wow,” Regina murmurs, turning her attention to the boys and quickly offering Emma a wink. “That’s so cool.”

“Can we go out in the hall and play with them?” Henry asks, looking up at her with wide, expectant eyes that she can never say no to. She nods and they both hug her and run out into the hall–and she grins as Robin excuses himself from a conversation with David and Marco and follows them.

“I really appreciate the list,” Emma says. “I… had no idea what to get him.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. I’m sure he’d have loved anything that you gave him.”

“I don’t know,” Emma cuts in. “It’s nice to be able to give him something that he actually wanted.”

Regina nods. “I know the feeling.”

Emma takes a breath and shoves her hands into her pockets. “I was… wondering if you could do me one more favor though?”

“Oh?”

“I’m only here until New Years and… I was wondering if you’d let me take Henry to lunch.” She shrugs. “My mom–as weird as it is to call her that–said he loves going to that little diner down the street.”

“Granny’s,” Regina says with a nod. “And I’m sure he’d liked that.”

“Thanks.” Regina nods as Emma shifts awkwardly on her feet. “He’s really lucky to have you as his mom, and… I’m grateful to you for…”

“You don’t have to thank me for loving my son.”

“Right…”

“So, I’ll send you a text about lunch, then?”

“Yeah,” Emma says, smiling a bit awkwardly as she shifts on her feet. “Are you… sure it’s not too weird?”

“No,” Regina says, her honesty surprising even her. “It’s really nice that Henry has such a big family after not having one for so long, and… I’m glad that you’re a part of that family.”

“I’m glad that I get to be a part of it, too.” She pauses or a minute and takes a breath as Mary Margaret lifts her glass and looks for something to clank against it, obviously about to make some sort of announcement. “And to show my gratitude, I’m going to let you know that now is probably a good time to duck out. She’s about to announce that everyone is going caroling.”

“As in…”

“Yep. We’re bundling up and walking around town, singing Christmas songs in front of people’s houses.”

A tight grin pulls onto Regina’s lips and she laughs a little. “I am most certainly not the caroling type, so I’m going to say my goodbyes before she makes her announcement.”

“Good call,” Emma says with a decisive nod as Regina steps around her.

She offers a quick thanks to Mary Margaret and David for having them, and tells them that Roland is tired and they have to go. Mary Margaret hugs her again, and this time, she doesn’t tense–and with a wink, she tells her that she’ll leave the apple pie for them to enjoy later on.

She grabs her coat and Robin’s, and then the boys’, and joins them in the hall–and she smiles as Henry laughs out as he uses his remote control to make his Captain America dip down and then fly back up, and then, as expect, Roland does the same with his Superman.

“Hey you,” Robin murmurs as he stretches his arm around her shoulders. “Ready to go already?”

“Yeah,” she breathes out. “Apparently, the next thing on Mary Margaret’s agenda is carolling and–”

“We’re not doing that,” Robin says, cutting in and shaking his head. “There’s no way we’re doing that.”

“No, we’re not,” Regina says, laughing soft. “But I’m really glad you made me come here tonight and didn’t let me back out.” She rubs her hand over his back and grins up at him. “But I have to say, I’m a little surprised you left me alone in there.”

“I trusted you. I don’t have any reason  _not_ to trust you.” Robin grins and presses a kiss to her temple. “But I will say that I’m glad you didn’t poison anything or set the tree on fire or–”

Regina laughs and rolls her eyes. “Well, I did leave my pie and it  _does_ have a secret ingredient in it.” Robin’s eyes widen a little and she laughs out, swatting her hand against his chest. “Which is  _lemon juice_.

“Oh…” He says, laughing as his arm tighten around her and he presses a kiss to her hair. “I knew that.”

_____

An hour after they get home, the boys are tucked in and asleep.

Robin opens bottle of wine as Regina waves her hand, and in seconds, the presents are neatly arranged underneath the tree. He grins as Regina tosses a fire ball into the hearth and then tugs him down on the couch beside her.

“I like when you cheat and use magic,” he says, shifting his arm around her. “And I love when the boys are in bed and sleeping by nine.”

“Two nights in a row…”

“Think we can come up with a way to make this happen every night?”

At that, she laughs. “I highly doubt it.”

He grins and takes a sip of the wine, holding it in mouth as he closes his eyes–and for a moment, he just enjoys the silence. “This is nice, though,” he tells her, “To finally have a a few minutes to ourselves.”

“It is.”

“Are you tired? We could go up…”

“Not yet,” she says, taking a quick sip of her own wine. “I’m surprisingly awake, given how busy today was.”

He nods. “Mary Margaret seemed to like her snow globe.”

“She did,” Regina says, a hint of a smile edging onto her lips. “I’m glad it all came together.”

“And your gift was… equally sentimental.”

“Yeah,” she murmurs, looking up at him. “I feel guilty for complaining when–”

“You didn’t want to disappoint her,” he says easily, dropping a kiss atop her head. “That’s understandable.”

“I just wish that our history wasn’t so–” Her voice halts and she takes a long sip of the wine. “Well, you know what our history is.”

“I do, and there’s no use in worrying about it. All you can do is… do better now. You can’t change the past.”

“I know…”

He rubs his hand over her arm. “She knows you’re trying…”

“I know,” she murmurs softly. “Did you see what she gave me?”

“It looked like Henry’s story book…”

“It was a scrapbook,” she says. “A scrapbook of… all the things I did as mayor during the curse… she said it was proof that I deserved the second chance I’ve been given.”

“You do deserve it.”

“Maybe.”

“Regina…”

She sighs and looks up at him, smiling gently. “It was a nice reminder.”

“I agree,” he murmurs as he looks to the tree, absently running his fingers up and down her arm. “And I think it was a reminder you needed.”

“She’s annoying like that,” Regina sighs. “Always doing the right thing at the right time.”

His eyes roll as he chuckles softly. “So annoying…” She nudges him and he laughs again, this time pressing a kiss to her hair. “You know, since the boys have already gone to bed, I think it’d be fun to give you one of your gifts early.”

“Oh,” she murmurs, pulling herself up and looking to the tree. “I suppose there wouldn’t be any harm in us choosing one gift for each other.”

His grin turns coy as he takes a long sip of the wine. “Well, there’s actually one very specific gift, and…” He chuckles softly as she looks to him and his grin turns coy. “It’s a gift that’s as much for me as it is for you.”

“Oh?”

“It’s upstairs.”

A smile edges onto her lips. “The one you were wrapping when I was in the shower.”

“That would be it.”

“And, you don’t want to… save it for tomorrow morning.”

“Uh, no,” he’s quick to say. “I think that would lead to some… uncomfortable conversations.”

Her eyes narrow and she giggles softly, and then she downs the rest of her wine and grabs his hand, pulling him up from the chair and leading him up the stairs to their bedroom. He laughs softly as he goes to the closet and pulls out the box covered in pajama-clad reindeer.

“Nice gift wrap,” she says a grin tugs onto her lips. “Did… you buy this specially for  _this_ gift?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” he sighs. “And it’s incredibly ill-fitting.” Her brow arches. “But we were at the craft store and it was crowded and I didn’t have time to browse, so I grabbed the first pack I saw and it came with the bow and–”

“I think the reindeer are cute.” He grins as she slips her finger beneath the edge of the taped down paper. “And you’re sure you don’t want me to pick one of the smaller things I got you, so you can unwrap one, too?”

“Positive,” he says easily as a chuckle rises into his voice. “Besides, I’ll have something to… unwrap soon enough.”

Her brow arches and she tears off the paper, and he holds his breath as he watches her lift the lid from the box and push away the tissue paper–and he hopes that she’ll like it.

“Lingerie,” she murmurs, looking up at him and shrugging her brows. “How shocking after that  _unwrapping_ comment.”  He rolls his eyes as she lifts the green lacy bra from the box and her fingers hook under around the thin green satin straps. “It’s pretty.”

“You think so?”

“I do,” she nods, biting down on her lip as she moves her hand into one of the cups of the bra. “It’s… very sheer.”

“I know,” he grins. “And when I saw it on the mannequin, I couldn’t stop thinking of you in it and–”

“Ah, so that’s where you disappeared to,” she says as a smile stretches across her lips and she picks up the matching green lace panties. “They’re soft.” He nods, watching as her fingers rub against the fabric. “Usually, you’re not really… interested in lingerie.” She laughs gently as she lets her hand slip into the backside of the panties, and again, there seems to be more skin showing than lace. “Something about not understanding the point, if it was only going to end up on the floor.”

“I know,” he murmurs. “And I don’t know what it was about that particular set but–”

She smiles. “Do you want to… see me in it? See if I live up to the fantasy?”

He feels his cheeks warm a bit and he nods. “I am  _sure_ it will.”

“You’re… not too tired?”

“No,” he’s quick to say. “And, you know… for the sake of tradition…”

She laughs out. “So, it’s our Christmas Eve tradition to have sex.”

“I mean, it  _could_ be…”

His heart flutters as she holds up the bra once more and again, she shrugs her eyebrows at him. “Well, then, I’ll be back in a few minutes, so you can… unwrap me.”

She disappears into the bathroom–and he can’t help but think of how unromantic his request was. But then, their first time hadn’t begun all that romantically either. There simply hadn’t been much else to do. He leans back against the pillows and smiles, remembering that night a year before–remembering how nervous he was and how reassuring she was. He’d been so worried about not pleasing her–worried that she’d be disappointed and there would be no going back.

And though they’d been together countless times since then, he still found himself thinking about that first night, and how perfect it was.

He swallows hard as the bathroom door opens–and his eyes linger up her, taking in the lacy lingerie that leaves very little to the imagination, and exceeds every expectation that he had, and then as his eyes trail up, he finds himself pressing his lips together and stifling the urge to laugh.

“What? The antlers?” She asks, pointing up to her head. “You weren’t expecting the antlers?”

“No,” he laughs. “But I have to say… I like them.”

“I figured with that wrapping paper…” She reaches up and bats her hand against one of the antlers and the little bells on it jingle–and again, he can’t help but laugh. “And they were just in the bathroom, so I thought they might be a part of the… get-up.”

“No,” he murmurs as he swallows another laugh. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you certainly are a sexy little reindeer.” Her eyes close and her face scrunches her nose–and then, when her eyes open, he holds out a hand to her.

He sits up, but she pushes him back–pressing her palms against his chest as she climbs on top of him, straddling his lap. He swallows hard as her fingers press against the fabric, rubbing back and forth as her eyes meet his–and then, she leans in, cupping his face in her hands as she kisses him softly.

His hands fold around her, rubbing over the thing layer of lace covering her ass–and he sucks in a breath as her hands fall away from his face and slowly begin twisting around the buttons on the front of his shirt.

He swallows as she tugs the shirt from his pants and she pulls away as she opens the shirt, pressing her palms to his bare chest and smiling suggestively. He continues rubbing his hands over her ass, kneading gently at the soft lacy fabric that covers her–and he lets out a shallow breath when she leans in and presses her lips to his chest, suck hard at his skin.

Her lips slide lower and lower and her fingers fumble with his belt–and she grins up at him coyly as she slowly pulls down the zipper of his pants, and readjusts herself between his legs.

He lifts his hips and she tugs his pants down over his hips–and she lowers her head to kiss the skin just above the elastic band of his boxer-briefs, the bells on her antlers jingle and they both laugh out.

“They’re kind of a mood-killer, aren’t they,” she murmurs, pulling away from him and sitting back on her legs folded beneath her. “They keep…ringing at inopportune times.”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs as he swallows his laugh. “They’re kind of fun.”

Her brow arches. “Oh… I didn’t know you were… into that.”

Robin’s eyes roll and he shakes his head. “I’m into you, silly antlers or not.”

She laughs and bites down on her bottom lip as she reaches out, cupping his cock through his underwear–and he sucks in a breath at that first contact. She squeezes gently as she presses her palm to him and then, she leans forward and again, places a kiss just about the waistband.

Her fingers slip into the underwear and close around the band, slowly tugging them down. She grins up at him as his cock springs forward, already hardening with anticipation–and she lets out a little giggle as the bells again jingle as she drags her tongue up the length of his shaft.

Her fingers fold around him as she kisses the tip–and again, the bells jingle, but somehow the sound is much more faint. He lets out a low moan and sucks in a breath as her lips slide down and her fingers twist and slide–and as the bells jingle, he feels a puff of air and light vibrations from her throat as she giggles softly, and he nearly comes right then.

She continues sucking and licking–and oh, god giggling–and he feels his breath growing increasingly ragged. His eyes open and she’s looking up at him as she her fingers knead at his balls and her tongue swirls just beneath the head of his cock–and then, she pulls away.

He swallows hard as as she sits up, straddling his legs. She pushes her shoulders back and grins, then gives her head a little shake, making the antlers jingle as she rubs her hands over his hips.

“This is fun.”

“It is,” he agrees in a husky voice as his eyes linger up her body, letting them linger longer than necessary over the thin gauzy lace covering her breasts. “A lot of fun.”

His hands slide up over her ass and her kneads gently at her skin, grinning when her back arches–and then, she falls forward, capturing his lips in hers. The kiss is wet and sloppy–and he can’t help but laugh as the antlers jingle.

“Should I take them off?”

“No,” he murmurs. “I kind of like them.”

She pulls back and arches a brow. “So, you  _are_ into that?”

“Like I said,” he says as a sly little grin edges onto his lips as he grabs harder at her ass. “I’m into you… no matter what you’re wearing.”

“Yeah?”

“You could be Mrs. Claus–white wig and all–and you’d still be irresistible to me.”

“Ooh,” she growls playfully. “All that red satin from head to toe, maybe… a broach at my throat.”

“I think I’m partial to green lace… and jingle bell antlers,” he murmurs as he pushes his hand up her stomach, smiling at her as his fingers slip against the lace bra. “But yeah, red satin might be fun.”

  
“Next year,” she says, laughing out as he pushes her back onto the bed. “We need to be quiet…”

“You’re the one making all the noise.” She takes a breath and he grins as she licks her lips. “That said, I’m fairly certain that–for tonight, at least–we could drive a train through the house and no one would wake up.”

She grins. “Suggesting the boys have a slumber party in Roland’s room was a great idea.”

He grins back and winks as his fingers slip between her legs and curl around the little stip of lace covering her–and she laughs out when he gives it a little tug and the bells on the antlers jingle. “I might have had an ulterior motive.”

“Hm, I hadn’t noticed.”

His eyes roll and his flingers slip between her lips. “You’re so wet.”

She looks up at him and bites harder at her lip. “I know,” she murmurs. “It’s… all that talk of Mrs. Claus.”

“Ah, so  _you_ have a thing for Mrs. Claus.”

“Well, you have a thing for reindeer.”

At that, he laughs–and one of his fingers dips inside of her, slowly curling and uncurling as his eyes stay fixed on hers. “No, just… one very specific reindeer.”

“Mmm, that feels nice,” she murmurs–gasping when he slips in another finger, letting it slide and curl, just like the first. “Faster,” she says, her voice not much more than a muffled whimper. “Please…”

Happily he obliges and his fingers pump faster as his thumb presses down on her clit, circling around it. A grin pulls onto his lips–he enjoys making her squirm like this, and he enjoys the contrast of the warmth inside of her with the coolness of the air when he pulls his fingers away. He likes the way the lace gently scratches his hand as his slides over her smooth skin–and he loves the way she whimpers and writhes.

She presses back her head and arches her back, and he knows that’s she’s close–so, he teases her a bit, and pulls away his hand. Her eyes open and she pouts, and when she lifts her head those damn antlers jingle–and he can’t help but laugh. She’s adorable.

“You’re not done,” she tells him.

“No,” he agrees, tugging off the lace panties and casting them aside, “Not even close.”

His cock is throbbing and begging for attention as he leans in and sucks gently at her clit–and when her back arches his hand slips under her, slowly lifting her and forcing his lips up to her stomach.

He looks at her as she settles herself, comfortably and to his dismay with his cock between them. She pulls herself up and down, slowly as she kisses him, rubbing her body against his cock–and every now and then, he’s aware of those jingling antlers, and he every time, he finds himself chuckling softly against her mouth.

Regina’s arms link around his neck and she presses herself closer and kisses him harder–and he shudders a bit as his cock bumps up against her clit and she moans into his mouth. Again, she pushes herself closer, this time pulling herself up onto her knees. He sigh contently as the tip of his cock slips easily into her, and the lace of her bra and the firmness of her nippes rub against his chest, and again–god help him–the antlers jingle.

He holds her hips as she starts to ride him, slowly at first, but quickly picking up the pace–and when she breaks the kiss, she looks at him and lets out a shaky breath, before a coy little grin edges onto her lips. She feels so damn good–and it’s not long before her movements become a bit more hurried. His balls tighten and his cock twitches–and she moans as her head falls forward, her forehead resting against his as he comes.

Pushing her back against the pillows, he thrusts slowly, riding out the orgasm–and then, when he’s finished, he slips out of her and quickly trails kisses down her throat and stomach, until his tongue is sliding between her legs, licking and sucking until she’s coming.

Swallowing hard, he pulls back and lays down beside her–and a silly little grin edges onto her lips. “That was fun.”

“It was,” he agrees.

“I’m… sticky.”

He laughs, reaching out and pushing his hand up over the lacy bra, cupping her breast and rolling her nipple between his fingers and the lace. “We could… fix that quite easily.”

“In a few minutes,” she breathes out, swallowing hard. “I need to… catch my breath.”

“Mm, okay,” he murmurs, rolling onto his side as his lips find her neck and his fingers continue to roll her nipples. “We have all night.”

“Tomorrow morning is going to come  _very_ quickly.”

“That’s nothing a strong pot of coffee can’t fix.”

She laughs just before reaching out and tilting his chin up–and as their eyes meet, she rolls closer and catches his lips between hers.

They lay like that for awhile–kissing and tangled in each others arms, and he can’t help but think how different this is than the previous year. They were so much more comfortable and at ease, and though at the time it’d been hard to think that he could love her any more than he did then, he was so much more in love with her now.

Regina pulls back and shakes her head as she sits up. “Unfortunately,” she murmurs as she reaches up to the antlers atop her head. “I don’t think these would fare well in the shower.”

“Probably not,” he says, taking them from her and tossing them aside–and they both laugh as the bells on the antlers jingle one last time.

She pulls him up of the bed and reaches behind herself, unclasping the bra and letting it fall to the floor. He stares at her for a moment, taking her in–and he can’t help but think as beautiful as she looked in that green lacy lingerie, he very much preferred her without it.

Regina gives his hand a little tug and grins coyly as she leads him to the bathroom–and as she reaches behind herself to turn on the shower, her hand forms around his cock, getting him ready for round two.

______

As expected, the boys wake up early–and even though Henry no longer believes in Santa Claus, it doesn’t seem to make Christmas any less magical for him. Every time he opens a present, he looks to Robin and Regina–looking to his parents–and he grins brightly, offering them a silent  _thank you_  as Roland gushes about how good Santa was to them that Christmas.

By seven in the morning, the presents are almost entirely opened–and the boys are thumbing through a book of Sunday Morning Comics. Regina’s cuddled up in Robin’s lap on the armchair, and a fire is burning at the hearth. His hand rubs absently over her back as they watch the boys opening their presents–and she’s not sure she’s ever felt so content and at ease.

Her heart warms as Henry points to a word and Roland’s brow creases, and gently, Henry helps him sound it out. For the past year and a half she’s been so focused on giving Henry the family he always wanted and deserved–and somehow, it managed to escape her that she was also doing the same for herself.

And it’d also escaped her–somehow, and almost unbelievably–that she’d achieved it.

Since the curse broke she was so focused on the town–focused on everyone else’s wants and needs, trying to make up for the nearly thirty years they’d lost–that she hadn’t much focused on the beautiful thing happening right in front of her.

Robin presses a kiss to her hair and she sips her coffee, and it occurs to her that there’s nothing she can do about the past, that only the future mattered. It’s something Robin had told her time and time again, and while she’d nodded and said she understood, she hadn’t quite internalized it. She’d been too focused on everything she’d done wrong, all the terrible things she couldn’t change–but now, for some reason as she watched Henry and Roland reading together–it seemed so obvious.

They’d all come so far.

And maybe, it really had all been worth it.

“Hey,” Robin’s voice calls softly, bringing her back into the moment. “You two do know there are still a few gifts over there, tucked behind the tree.”

Both boys’ eyes widen. “Santa was  _so nice_  this year,” Roland says as he crawls toward the pile of gifts and looks to Henry. “It’s Harry Potter paper!”

“Cool!” Henry exclaims as he folds the comic book shut. “You can open the first one.”

Roland grins, and slowly tucks his finger underneath the wrapping as he looks around the room, brimming with excitement–and then his brow furrows. “It’s… an apron.”

“It’s a  _Hufflepuff_ apron,” Henry tells him as he rips into his own present. “And mine’s a Gryffindor one!” Henry looks up, his eyes widening as he looks to Robin and Regina. “They match the ones you guys got!”

“They do…”

“And I’m willing to bet they go with the rest of that stuff.”

“Santa’s really thoughtful,” Roland says seriously, looking between them all. “He wrapped all the presents that go together in the same paper so we know what to open with what.”

Robin laughs. “I… think  _Mrs. Claus_  might have had something to do with that, actually.” Regina grins and tips her head back to look at him, and he leans in to press a kiss to her forehead. “I think you guys should open up the big one next.”

Henry and Roland both nod, and together, they pull the paper off the Hagrid’s Hut Gingerbread House.

“Can we make this today?” Henry asks, his eyes widening expectantly.

“Yeah! Can we have gingerbread for breakfast?”

Regina laughs. “We can make it, but you two are eating a  _real_ breakfast first.”

“Can our real breakfast be gingerbread?” Roland asks, pressing his hands together. “Please?”

“How about some scrambled eggs and toast.”

Roland considers for a moment and then nods. “Can we have bacon, too?”

Regina laughs and nods–and the boys open the last few presents, and Robin’s quick to remind them that the candy is meant to go on the gingerbread house.

After everything’s opened, Robin takes the boys into the kitchen–and they sword fight with their Harry Potter spatulas as they go, earning a long sigh from Robin as he shakes his head. She waits until they’re out of the room and takes a breath, and then, waving her hand she cheats and uses magic to clean up the mess of wrapping paper, ribbons and torn apart packaging.

She joins them in the kitchen, standing there for a moment and watching as Henry start to make the gingerbread dough while Robin stands at the stove monitoring as Roland scrambles the eggs–and her breath catches.

“Are you okay?” Robin asks, turning toward her as her eyes fill with tears and suddenly, she feels a surge of emotion. “You look–”

“I’m fine,” she insists. “I just… I just love that we have this.”

“Me too,” he murmurs as he presses a kiss to her cheek. “I love  _this_ , too.”

“I… I don’t want to think about what I’d be like without you… well… you and the boys,” she says, swallowing hard as she blinks away her tears. “You guys are the best part of me.”

“Well,” he murmurs softly, pressing another kiss to her cheek as Henry looks up from the counter and grins a bit awkwardly. ‘You’ll never have to find out.”

He offers her a wink and she joins Henry, draping her arm around his shoulders and dropping a kiss to his hair as Robin rejoins Roland at the stove.

It’s not long before breakfast is done and the boys are carefully using the cookie cutters to make the walls to Hagrid’s Hut–and Robin is stealing the occasional gum drop and peppermint.

Finally, it’s time to put the gingerbread into the oven and Henry does so carefully with Roland watching–and Regina turns to start mixing the icing that will eventually hold together the walls of Hagrid’s Hut, she bursts out laughing when she finds Robin perched on a stool wearing another pair of antlers and a spot of the red frosting on his nose.

The boys both turn to look at them, rolling their eyes as Robin pulls Regina to him, kissing her as the boys roll their eyes and turn back to the oven, watching impatiently as the gingerbread bakes.


End file.
